


Watching You

by Stucky1980



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Asgardian Liquor, Avengers Party, Awkward Flirting, Bottom Bucky, Canon Compliant, Cute, Daydreaming, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Sassy bottom bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-14
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-23 05:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14928024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky1980/pseuds/Stucky1980
Summary: The Avengers have to put in an appearance at another Stark party, and Steve is a saint who won’t ever say no for a charitable cause, but Bucky would much rather he had Steve all to himself.





	Watching You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published drabble ...and i welcome all feedback good and not so good! Inspired by the novel You by Caroline Kepness

I’m watching you. I’m watching nothing but you in this overcrowded room. I can see your arm flex beneath your shirt, the muscle twinging as you raise your glass for a sip. You’re talking to some _I think I am so hot_ brunette, probably saying something pretty boring because I notice your attention waning, even though you put on a good show.

You haven’t noticed me yet, but I have definitely fucking noticed you.

My throat burns from another gulp of the expensive scotch in my glass; I wish it had a little more effect on me, but the warm buzz is still oddly soothing. I find myself licking my lips while still watching you,fantasising about pinning you to the bar and shoving my tongue down your fucking throat. Feeling that delicious beard of yours rub against my cheek, burning my skin in the most delicious way. Fuck, you look hot in those dark jeans, the way they hug your ass in just the right way.

My throat burns again on another sip of scotch.

“Make it a double,” I say, setting my glass on the bar.

The bartender nods at me, and goes to refill my drink. He is young and was probably so excited to get this gig, tending bar at a Tony Stark party, but the look on his face says that the buzz is long gone. By the end of the night he’ll be drinking just as many shots as he’s pouring.

Where was I? Oh, yes, admiring your ass. That over eager woman is pawing your arm now, her perfect manicure as fake as they come. Probably spent a fortune for it at some exclusive salon downtown where she’d heard all the celebrities went to.

“Actually, make it two,” I tell the bartender.

I think it’s time I saved you from the spider’s web; I can practically hear you sigh from the other side of the room. But don’t worry, I’m on my way.

Trying to navigate this party is like dodging a series of landmines; a middle aged blonde tries to strike up a conversation with me mid stride. Please, don’t even waste your time, darl, blah, blah, blah is all I’m hearing. I have to side step past her like we’re about to dance. Thank God I’m not that drunk. I give her a half  fake smile and a polite brush off, then continue on my way.

It looks like that stupid brunette buzzing around you is starting to get the message; please leave me alone. Come on, it’s written all over your face, and mine too, probably. I wonder if she’d mind if I just casually spilled a drink over her, getting her to leave. I’d blame it on her drinking excessive amounts of rum cocktails, and she’d be totally embarrassed and scurry off somewhere else. Hmm, not a bad idea.

You still haven’t noticed me sneak up behind you yet. I thought you were supposed to have super powers of hearing or something.

“I know you’re there, I can smell your cologne,” you say seductively, slowly turning your attention to me. I see the slight haze of Asgardian alcohol in your blue eyes, and the smell of that product you use in your hair.

My throat burns again. I swallow hard and subconsciously bite the liquid from my bottom lip.

“Thought you could use one of these.”

Our fingers brush together as I hand you the glass of scotch. Damn, you look fucking hot in that leather jacket, your hair all styled perfectly, the way the corner of your mouth curls at me. Fucking hot.

You take a large mouthful.

“I could use more than that.” You reach out and tangle your fingers in mine, pulling me closer to your chair. Fuck, I am so hot for you right now. I can tell you’re trying not to be too obvious, only a handful of people know what we have going on here. The secrecy kills me sometimes, but most of the time it just makes it all the more exciting.

What I would do to you right now. I can feel myself biting my bottom lip again and my heart rate increases. Your long fingers grasp the zipper on my jacket, enough to pull me down for your words to be heard by no one else except me.

I’m waiting in anticipation for your words; your warm breath tickling past my ear is enough to send the blood rushing to my cock. Fuck, I want you, right now, on this bar, right fucking now.

“Hey guys, what’s the big secret?”

Fuck, where the hell did he come from? I think I almost had a heart attack. Just five more seconds, why couldn’t he leave us alone for five more seconds so whatever naughty erotic thing you were going to say could roll off that delicious tongue of yours?

“Hey, Thor, just about to mess up the punch line on a dirty joke, as usual.” You smile and laugh at your own expense, but you are definitely a lot funnier than you give yourself credit for. Your middle name could be smart ass. In fact, I think it is, or maybe it should be damn fine ass.

Meanwhile our Asgardian God stands all smiles, cascading hair, broad shoulders and all the naivety in the world. Nearly every woman’s eyes, and quite a few of the men’s are on him, watching his every move, every flex, every twitch, every smile. Well, who can blame them really but my eyes are only for you.

I take another sip of my scotch and now I’m left with nothing but melting ice. “Hey, isn’t that the scientist, you know, the girl you may or may not be having a thing with?” I gesture casually over to the door where she stands, her eyes scanning the room obviously looking for him.

Thor’s stance straightens as soon as he makes eye contact. He is so predictable, thankfully. He flashes us a cheeky smile before striding off to the waiting brunette in her black dress that she most than likely picked out to impress the Asgard prince.

So, at least we are alone now, alone as it is possible surrounded by a party of people, music, and lots of free alcohol.

You turn to me again, as if we weren’t just rudely interrupted. “Now, where were we?” You look me straight in the eyes and everything else disappears. It’s only you and me.

“Oh, I think you were about to say something extremely dirty, something so dirty that you’d blush and I’d be so turned on I could fuck you right now against that wall in front of everybody.”

So, yeah, I’m straightforward. I know what I want and I go for it. Assertive they call it. There you go, blushing already, and before you’ve even said the words.

Your mouth curls again and you take another sip of your drink. “Something like...?”

You are such a fucking tease, and I love it. You just want to hear the words come out of my mouth and turn you on. Challenge accepted.

“Something like…” I move in close so my lips tickle your ear, so my voice will not be heard by anyone else. “Like, I’m going to tie you down to the bed and lick every… fucking…inch of your body tonight, the very second we are alone.” I flick my tongue out slightly and taste your ear. You take a sudden breath, and I know you are getting turned on. Damn, I wish we were alone.

I pull back so our cheeks brush together, your lips just a breath from mine. I feel my pants getting tighter. I want this ridiculous party to be over, I want you and me to be as far away from these freeloaders as possible…. Well, at least several floors away.

You take another sip, licking your lips and keeping eye contact. Fuck it, I’m the fucking one who was dragged along to this Goddamn party, putting in an appearance like a good little media tart, I’m now going to do what the hell I want.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say quietly.

You seem a little confused, eyes darting around the room. “Um, I think the guys will notice if we are gone, Tony wanted us all to keep up appearances, and all that.”

“I’ve done my little dance for Stark, now I can do whatever the fuck I want, and right at this moment that involves fucking your brains out.” I try to keep my expression neutral so as not to give away the nature of our conversation.

Your eyes spark. You really do like dirty talk, and here everyone thinks you’re some sort of innocent boy-scout. Your back stiffens as you sit up straight, electricity firing through your nerves, I can almost feel it from here.

“Come on.” I want to grab your hand and knot your fingers with mine, but that would be a little obvious for all these ignorant assholes. They’re not ready to know, we’re not ready for them to know.

I reluctantly break eye contact and start to walk away from you, waiting, hoping you take my lead and follow. Not one person here is paying us any attention, we’re supposed to be here, we’re supposed to be mingling. I just want to mingle with you, and only you.

One of the young waiters walks by with his silver tray, doing his duty and collecting used glasses. Good boy, money well spent by Stark. I place my glass on the tray as he brushes past, and glance behind me and yes, yes, yes, you are following me through the crowd.

I pause to let you catch up, I don’t want to lose you to some moron in the crowd, I want you all to myself.

“Would you like another drink?” I hear you ask, starting to head towards the bar and Thor’s private stash.

“I’ll pour you one in private,” I tell him. No delays, no stalling, no distractions, no interruptions. Let’s just get out of this room, away from all these bodies, all this empty chatter from shallow people. I shove my hands in my pockets, I need to occupy them or I’ll reach out and grab you, claw you. Just ten more seconds until the doorway, and then the hall.

Oh, no, I can see someone to my left moving in to intercept us, so I casually turn my back and face you, gesturing to the door. Phew, disaster averted. My hands are hot, a little clammy, I retrieve them from my jeans pockets but, no, no, no, the hallway isn’t deserted, freeloaders again.

You are silent, and so am I, but inside I have a million words skipping around. It’s a weird feeling, I’m rambling on the inside but I can never let it all out. The elevator light comes on as I push the button. Still there are nearby eyes. Bing. The doors slide open and I let you step inside first, you smell so fucking good I can hardly contain myself.

The metal doors begin to close and I stare into your eyes. The doorway disappears and I push you up against the metal wall with force. I shove my tongue in your mouth and taste you, finally.

“Mmmm, you taste so fucking good,” I tell him as I fumble for the stop button and slam my palm against it, causing an abrupt halt. Your hands are grabbing my ass. Fuck, I want you.

Your breathing is heavy; you press your hips against mine. Fuck, I want you, and I can tell you want me too. “Buck.” Your voice is breathless. “Tell me again, tell me what you’re going to do to me.” You bite your bottom lip and completely surrender yourself to me. I move my hands over your abs, over your chest; I feel your muscles tense. Your warm skin feels so good. I want to rip that fucking sexy leather jacket and t-shirt off you.

I hold your gaze as I slowly begin to undo your belt, and your jeans. “I am going to tie you to the bed, lick every fucking inch of your body before riding your cock ‘til we both can’t sit down for a week, Steve Grant Rogers. I’ll have you screaming my name all night long.” I can barely get the words out, my breath quickens, and I devour your mouth.

You buckle beneath my touch, and I’m fucking losing it right here. You reach your hand down my jeans; your touch is almost too much to bear.

“Then what are you waiting for?” you ask, panting. I whack the button again to start the elevator, probably a little too hard, but fuck, my frustration right now is through the roof.

I send up a silent prayer of thanks when there’s no one on my personal floor as the doors slip open. I don’t know if I can make it to the bedroom with the sight of you throwing your jacket to the ground, and kicking off your shoes is definitely way more seductive than it should be.

“How about that drink now, Captain? God knows I could use one, or five.” I quickly pour a straight bourbon and slam it back. I pour myself another but you’re at my side grabbing the glass from my grip. Your fingers are over mine and I don’t want to move them. So I don’t. I keep my grip as you guide the glass to your lips and gulp down the amber liquid.

A little dripped over the edge and onto my fingers. You slowly lick it off and run your tongue over your lips. I feel your erection pressing against my thigh and, and I’m lost for words again. I can’t even remember my name; this is the effect you have on me, Rogers. I’m fucking delirious, tingly and hard, and you don’t even know you do this to me with nothing but a smile and a tilt of your head. I take a breath to calm myself and close my eyes. It’s just you and me…. and this crowd of fucking freeloaders.

I’m still stuck in this bar, and flirting with you is just another one of my idle daydreams.

You take another sip as I watch your every move from the other side of the room. That woman’s polished fingernails are twirling through her brown hair and you pretend to be interested in the conversation, but clearly aren’t.

Why am I stuck at this boring party, and sitting here by myself? Why can’t I have you in public? Why can’t our subtle flirting turn into more public displays of affection? Is it too much for people to grasp the idea of James Bucky Barnes having it both ways? Of the possibility of Captain fucking America having it both ways?

I can see your arm flex again as you stand to make your getaway. Damn, your ass looks fucking hot in those jeans. You catch me watching you and start pushing your way through the crowd to the bar where I’m leaning. I eye you up and down. “So, what’s your poison tonight, Captain?”

The corner of your mouth curls deviously. “Well, I’d say it was you, Buck, but seeing as you’re not part of the drinks menu, I’ll have to go for some more Asgardian rum.”

Did I just hear right?

Are you flirting with me, full on flirting in public?

All those times I wished you were flirting with me, rather than just being that same smart ass kid you always were. But this feels different, definitely different; this is you taking the lead.

“Well, I am on the menu, just up there with the top shelf stuff.” I point towards the collection of rare and expensive alcohol. I take another sip of warm liquid and watch your facial expression, trying to gauge if you are serious or just fooling around, or if I’m daydreaming again. Yep, that’s a distinct possibility.

“Depends if you’re buying.” You swirl your drink and take a sip before turning towards me.

“Steve, Stark is buying everyone’s fucking drinks; he’s catering this shitty party, so I say drink up.” I am rather to the point, but he should be used to that by now.

You smile and chuckle a little. That’s a relief.

“That’s good, because I definitely couldn’t afford you otherwise.” Your eyes are sparkling. You are a cheekier shit than usual when you’re drunk, and a flirt. I love it.

“Well, maybe we could work out some sort of deal,” I offer. “Like I get you ridiculously drunk on all that expensive booze and then have my way with you.”

You stop and study me curiously. Oh, no, have I read this all wrong? I’ve fucked up. I could always say that I’ve drunk too much, that I’ve been hanging around Stark too long and picking up his bad flirting habits. Good cover story. I’m ready for rebuttal now.

“Tell you what, Buck, how about we start with getting away from this party, just the two of us?”

Oh…my… God. I feel my whole body tingle. Is this for real? I smile but dare not lose eye contact. “You’re on, Rogers.”

Let the games begin.


End file.
